


Lend Me Your Hand and We’ll Conquer Them All

by HaleHole (SweetFanfics)



Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: M/M, Summer Romance
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-10-26
Updated: 2014-10-26
Packaged: 2018-02-22 17:55:19
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Underage
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,925
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2516681
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SweetFanfics/pseuds/HaleHole
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>There’s so much behind that single look. They haven’t talked about the summer they spent together - all the rushed mornings, lazy evenings and long nights they’d passed in each other’s company. Talking had not been part of their agreement. A summer romance with no strings attached, that’s all it was supposed to be.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Lend Me Your Hand and We’ll Conquer Them All

**Author's Note:**

> [Inspired by this photoset.](http://candypinkcocks.tumblr.com/post/101010270610/blackmaskdevil-and-you-will-derek-because) Blanket S03 warning. Given that this is semi-canon compliant, Stiles is underage when he and Derek got together in the summer break between s2 and 3a.

His world is crashing, crumbling, falling all around him. Stiles can feel it every second that he stands still doing nothing. He’s entirely too aware of the fact that he’s standing on increasingly unsteady ground, can feel the tremors under his feet and how they’re rattling his bones. His defences have fallen, the ruined walls are crumbling to dust. The only thing keeping him upright is Scott's warm hand around his arm.  
  


Stiles feels no shame in the tears resting in his eyes, on his lashes because what importance does his pride have when his dad’s  _life_  is on the line? There’s only fear, so much fear, barely being held at bay behind his aching heart in favor of anger. Anger will keep him sharp and on his toes, something he sorely needs to do against Ms. Bla- _the Darach_.  
  


Clenching his hands into fists, Stiles clenches his jaw and stares at her back. He’s already wishing a hundred different agonizing things on her, a thousand curses, all of them clamoring to come out out of his mouth. It’s only the weight of Derek’s gaze that makes Stiles stay quiet.  
  


There’s so much behind that single look. So much history. They haven’t talked about the summer they spent together - all the rushed mornings, lazy evenings and long nights they’d passed in each other’s company. Talking had not been part of their agreement. A summer romance with no strings attached, that’s all it was supposed to be.   
  


Not that stayed it that way. Even though it had started out that way, it was somewhere between a rainy July day and a hot August morning that Stiles realized that there sure were a lot of strings tying him to Derek. And then by the next day they spent together - arguing, eating,  _being_  - Stiles realized that Derek felt the same.  
  


But neither of them spoke of the threads that connected them, ignoring the knots and ties wrapped around their fingers in favor of enjoying the most of their time together. Such was their agreement. But once you notice something, you can’t really ignore it, right? It was that awareness that made their last meeting so bittersweet, so incredible that Stiles still felt a little choked up. He can't even remember why he'd never stopped to talk to Derek at the end. Why hadn't he tried to convince him that they should be more than just a summer fling?  
  


Right now, as he stares at Derek and wordlessly pleads with him to help him, the teenager  _hopes_ that not all the threads between them have been cut. Stiles holds his breath when the werewolf looks back at the dark haired lady and opens his mouth. “I choose him.” The words are soft but firm, determined.  
  


The Darach turns to look at him and Stiles tries not to feel anything at how surprised and  _hurt_ she looks at Derek’s choice. “He’s just a kid.” Stiles can’t help but bristle at her tone, as though being young is somehow  _wrong_. “You’d choose  _him_?” The ‘over me’ is implied so heavily that Stiles wants to claw at someone until he sees blood. Preferably her.  
  


When she turns back to look up at Derek, Stiles’ gaze follows as well. The werewolf has a quiet, resigned look on his face. Like this is a decision he’s reached and accepted long ago. Stiles sucks in a quick breath, recalling a particular morning when he’d rushed out with a piece of toast in his mouth right after pressing a quick goodbye kiss to Derek’s mouth and then halting his babble to stare at Derek. And asked him if he was feeling alright because…Because the look that Derek’s sporting right now is the  _same_ look that Derek had that morning. It’s sad in a way that makes his heart ache and worry. And says ‘I should have seen this pain coming a long time ago’. But warm. So  _warm_.

 

“Derek.” She says.  _Pleads_  with him in a feather soft voice.

 

Derek’s eyes come back to him. Stiles feels like someone’s hit the pause button, stopping the self-destruct sequence going on inside his world. The steady look goes a long way in helping Stiles breath again and tell himself that not all hope is lost, maybe there’s still a chance. And he’ll take that with both hands.   
  


Swallowing hard, Stiles watches with mounting surprise as Derek admits, “Whatever happens, I’d die for him.” Everything in his world just…  _freezes_. And  _cracks_.  
  


It’s hard to breathe for all kinds of new reasons even when Derek turns his attention back towards the Darach. Stiles is having a hard time processing this  _enormous_ revelation that Derek is apparently ready to  _die_ for  _him_. For  _him,_ regular human and sarcasm on legs.   
  


This,  _them_ , is so much more than Stiles has even  _dared_ to hope. As the realization sinks in, the ground under his feet shifts and changes into brightly colored tiles arranged in patterns that he can’t recognize but it’s solid ground for him to walk on. There’s still cracks on the walls but there’s a blue sky overhead that seems as fathomless as the ocean. As infinite as the possibility of them.  
  


"And you will be, Derek."  The sharp tone cuts through Stiles’ like a cold wind. From his position behind her, Stiles can’t see the Darach’s face but the stiff way in which she stands and her voice, he can make an educated guess what kind of face she’s making. "Because he’ll  _never_  be strong enough. You really think he could survive the bite?”  _Every_ part of him bristles at his and he barely manages to keep himself from yelling at her. It. “Be your  _mate_? He’ll die in your arms just like Paige. And it will kill you this time.”  
  


Whoa, whoa,  _whoa_. Stiles can feel his eyes going bug eyed when he stares at the Darach and then at Derek with the most incredulous look on his face because  _mate_?  _What_? That was an actual  _thing?_ What in the name of fresh and stale _hell_! His shock is mixed with a deep seated rage that makes Stiles want to take the two steps forward, turn this imposter around and punch it out because how  _dare_ she bring up Paige in such a manner? How  _dare_  she throw Paige's death in Derek’s face like that?

 

Stiles takes a step forward anyways, a small show of bravado, ignoring the warning Scott hisses at him. “You’d be surprised,” He states boldly, lip curling into a smug sneer when it turns around to eye him. “at how stubborn I can be. And I don’t plan on dying any time soon. Same way I don't plan on becoming a werewolf.”   
  


It gives him a mocking smile. Stiles tries not to show any kind of weakness, drawing on his anger to glare a little harder at the pretty face and wavy hair. “I believe in him.” Derek says, more determined than he’s sounded so far.   
  


Gratitude, wonder,  _love_  wells up in him so fast that Stiles has trouble breathing for a few seconds. He directs it all towards Derek in a hard look that the werewolf catches. Stiles swallows past the frog in his throat, feeling so overwhelmed.   
  


"Then you’re a fool." She states.   
  


"Takes one to know one." Stiles mutters under his breath, feeling so utterly resentful over the fact that they have to take help from this creature in order to find his dad and save the town in general.   
  


Scott steps in before it can say anything in reply. “Okay, that’s  _enough_.” He states firmly. “If you’re going to help Cora then we need to go the hospital.  _Now_.” Scott gives both Derek and Stiles a long, hard stare that tells them both to hold it together and to not do anything rash.  
  


After a beat, Stiles sighs and rolls his shoulders before acquiescing to Scott’s silent demand. “We’ll take my car.” Derek says. Scott’s already taking the Darach by the arm, strong arming it towards the door with a glare that tells it not to pull any funny stunts.  
  


It’s the perfect chance to step closer to Derek, take comfort and support from the werewolf and also to ask him, “Mates?” Stiles doesn’t look at Derek. He watches the Darach being led out of the loft instead. He’s not sure if he can deal with the answer, no matter what it is.  
  


Derek makes a scoffing noise, rough and a little sad. “Not exactly.” Okay,  _what_?  
  


Now he  _has_ to look at Derek, raise a questioning eyebrow and ask, “Then what?”   
  


It’s the werewolf’s turn to stare at the door before he sighs and drops his shoulders in defeat. “You’re the person I chose.”  _Huh_? Stiles stares at Derek and the slight pink color of his cheeks before it sinks in and he blushes as well.  
  


"Oh." is Stiles’ ever so articulate reply. But his mouth makes up for it by asking, "So it’s not some freaky werewolf thing? Like some kind of soul bond or scent thing or-"  
  


Derek directs a fond, vaguely amused look at him that makes Stiles shut up faster than he can suck in a breath. “I thought I told you to stop believing everything you read online.” Stiles blushes harder at that. He doesn’t want to think about the first time Derek had warned him about that. Or well, he  _does_. It’s just not the time or place. “It’s… the same as humans picking someone to be with.”   
  


So. Derek’s picked him? Out of everyone that he can have… He’s opted for  _him_. His world spins like a kaleidoscope, whirling with colors and crazy angles until Stiles feels dizzy. “You chose me.” He repeats dumbly, blinking in bewilderment at Derek’s profile. The tightening in Derek’s jaw however, makes him wonder why this information is a source of pain for the werewolf.  
  


"That's not good?" Stiles hazards a guess. He tries not to jump or worse, melt into the floor at the intense gaze Derek levels him with. There’s  _so much_ going on behind the werewolf’s pale eyes that Stiles can’t keep up.   
  


Derek sighs, heavy and resigned. “This isn’t a good time to talk about this.” He answers, smoothly bypassing having to answer Stiles. For his part, Stiles feels slightly peeved at the fact that Derek is right and oh  _God,_ this is  _so_ not the time to be thinking about how this information basically changes his entire relationship with Derek and that they can more than a summer together. It could be  _so much_   **more**.  
  


Stiles nods jerkily and takes a step forward before turning around to level Derek with a steady look. The werewolf quirks an eyebrow at him and it’s so familiar that Stiles’ hands itch. He gives in to the urge and reaches out to take hold of Derek’s face, pull him close and kiss him.  
  


It’s nothing more than their parted lips pressed together in a firm contact but Stiles’ still feels tingles zinging down his spine all the way down to his  _toes_. He pulls away after a beat, staring resolutely into Derek’s dazed eyes before stating in a shaky voice. “Once this is over and we  _both_ are okay, we’re having a long talk.”  
  


When Derek nods slow and deep, Stiles nods and pulls back. He turns on his heels, striding towards the open loft door with a renewed determination and a  _promise_ to himself that he’s going to make it out of this alive. 


End file.
